


Such A Good Patient

by markipwiwer



Series: Tumblr Requests [67]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Blood Play, Descriptions of Food Fetish, Descriptions of Voyerism, Doctor/Patient, Drugging, Dry Cumming, Knife Play, M/M, Medical Kink, Previous consent, Restraints, There is a lot going on here, Vague consent, blackmail mention, dub con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 01:26:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14759960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markipwiwer/pseuds/markipwiwer
Summary: “Oh wow - I didn’t notice there was a lot of Anti whump already in your archive! If I could change my request to something less repetitive, perhaps someone trying to see what makes Wilford tick? I’m really interested in what headcanons you have for how our pink boi works.”- rottenka-Dr Schneeplestein wants to figure out how Wilford works, at least on a base level. Things get a little out of hand.





	Such A Good Patient

**Author's Note:**

> So this started as a prompt and I kind of feel like I took it way too far. Or maybe not, you can be the judge of that.
> 
> This was notnoriginally in the “Tumblr Dantistache Requests” series. I used to be more picky about what I put in that series. But now I use it more for tracking how many requestsnive actually filled for Tumblr as opposed to the relevance of Dantistache in general. I write a lot more pairings now than I used to.

Wilford found doctors to be curious and interesting, and doctors usually found Wilford to be the same.

He’d met many people who had wanted to poke and prod him and take him apart and figure out how his insides worked.

Especially his brain.

Since Wilford appeared to be mostly human, it was strange that he had so many powers - powers that could rival Darks, if they wanted to

The only physical difference with Wilford was that his ageing process seemed to stunt in his mid thirties. Dark was the same, but Dark was also... for all intents and purposes, dead. Wilford was not. Wilford still breathed, he still needed food and sleep and other human things. 

Dr Iplier was... curious, sure, but beyond basic examinations there wasn’t much he could do. He didn’t have any particular want or need to explore those sorts of things. There were too many of Marks egos to take care of as it was, he didn’t have the time to be an experimental kind of doctor.

Dr Schneeplestein, on the other hand, was as much of a mad scientist as he was a doctor. And Wilford could certainly appreciate that. Wilford appreciated people’s morbid curiosity and unlike many others, he often enjoyed his examinations. Maybe he had a medical kink, who knew. 

The point was that Schneeplestein had expressed his interest of Wilford to Dark - because when it came to anyone laying a hand on his cotton candy killer, express permission was needed - and Dark had said that he was alright with Schneep doing some investigative work. The finer details were up to Wilford, naturally, although Dark was aware Schneeplestein could be a little more... invasive that your average doctor.

So a date was set - or an appointment, depending on the perspective - and Wilford found himself a little excited. He had a nice, long, prep shower beforehand and kissed Dark and Anti goodbye. And then he poofed.

-

Dr Schneeplesteins office was cold and difficult and very still, all things considered. Unlike Dr Ipliers office, which always seemed to be buzzing. There weren’t as many Septics around, that was simply the reality of the situation. And Wilford... wasn’t nervous, was he?

He knocked on the door to the office and Schneep called out from behind it to come in.

Wilford didn’t think that Schneep did actual surgeries on people, but his equipment seemed right for it.

“Take a seat, Wilford.”

Schneeps accent stuck out like a sore thumb, and Wilford had to smile at the way the doctor said his name. Like ‘Vilford’. It was endearing, if not a little bit like something out of a horror movie.

Wilford realised that there was no chair in Scheenps office. There was a surgical table that looked kind of like a bed without the comfy bits, and Wilford noticed that it had straps on the sides. Restraints. Huh.

Wilford jumped up onto the table regardless, and patted at his knees while the good doctor finished his paperwork. Finally, he lifted stopped writing and looked up at Wilford, just over the top of his glasses.

“Wilford Warfstache, one of the greats. I am very honoured that you have granted me your time so that I may get to the bottom of your many eccentricities.”

In the back of his head, Wilford knew the doctor was just feeding into his ego a bit. But he smiled and puffed out his chest with pride nonetheless.

“Thanks, Doc! I hardly ever get to see you so it’s a good excuse, I think!”

“Now, niceties aside, I have a little... wish list, I suppose, of things I would like to try. In terms of what makes you tick. I have the feeling that your extraordinary powers are linked to your psyche, and I would like to explore that. But of course it is all up to you. Naturally, everything that happens here is purely confidential, unless you give me permission to share my findings with certain individuals. For instance, I’m sure Darkiplier would have some interest in this.”

Wilford got bored with the formalities, but he was pretty excited about this little wish list idea. Wilford wondered exactly what Schneeplestein would do to him if he didn’t need his explicit consent.

So he gave it.

“Do whatever you want to me, Doc. I’m a pretty tough cookie to crumble!”

Schneep cocked his eyebrows, walking up to Wilford with a clip board in hand, taking the odd note here and there.

“Now, now, Wilford. You shouldn’t say things like that when you don’t know what I want...”

Now it was Wilfords turn to cock an eyebrow.

“I have a fair imagination and a high tolerance of a lot of things. I’ll be hunky dory, don’t you worry about me!”

Schneeplestein paused.

“Well, for a start, you may strip.”

Okay, fair enough. It was a full examination after all. Wilford was directed towards a screen for a bit of privacy but he didn’t care much about a little nudity, dumping his shoes and socks, suspenders, yellow shirt, trousers (with no underwear, which Schneep rolled his eyes at) and a white undershirt, in that order. He was given an ugly little gown, which he waved away dismissively at first, but the doctor insisted.

If Wilford didn’t know any better, he’d say Schneeplestein wanted to kiss him once he was all... vulnerable like that.

Instead, Schneeplestein patted just behind Wilford, on the bed, signalling for Wilford to lie down. And Wilford did just that, getting as comfortable as he could.

Schneep worked wordlessly a lot of the time, and Wilford had to assume it was because he had a few patients that had a hard time communicating, like Jameson and Robbie.

Wilford put his hands up in the bed, where Schneep shifted them a little before bringing the restraints around rather quickly and tying him firmly into place.

Wilford chuckled at that.

“It’s not like I’m going anywhere, Doc!”

“Oh, it’s not you, Wilford. This is standard procedure for me and all of my patients.”

Schneeplestein had something behind those eyes, something that Wilford couldn’t entirely place but it looked similar to how Wilford looked in a mirror.

It was a little maddening.

Both of his wrists were down now and he couldn’t help but think of Anti. Anti who saw Schneep on the regular, being tied down like this, since it was apparently standard stuff. It made his stomach tense a little. Probably in arousal. Maybe in concern.

Lost in his own thoughts, he hadn’t noticed the good doctor preparing some sort of serum until he flicked the needle, getting the air bubbles out and turning back around to Wilford.

Alright, maybe he was a little nervous. That stuff looked weird.

“Just something to calm the nerves and clear the head. Just a teeny tiny prick.”

Before Wilford could really protest, not that he would have but still, Schneeplestein found the vein quickly and punctured the skin, pushing down on the plunge. Wilford didn’t feel any immediate effects, but his mind did wander back to Anti. Wilford had mixed feelings about Anti having this done to him all the time. Hmm.

That being said, drugging and fucking Anti didn’t sound as horrible as it sound have.

Wait, what?

That thought had really come out of nowhere, and it pooled in his stomach. His mind was saying no, but his dick was saying go.

“What was in that?”

His voice felt a little disconnected from his body, like he was underwater.

“It’s a two in one. Psychosis represent and a nice little aphrodisiac. I have noted in patients such as yourself that temporarily ‘curing’ psychotic symptoms often takes away their other worldly powers.”

Wilford didn’t like the vulnerability. Or - well, okay, he did, it was doing things to his cock that were extraordinary but - mentally he knew he shouldn’t want this.

“Why the aphrodisiac, then?”

His mouth asked the question without his brain actually wanting to.

“We are all at our most honest, truthful and vulnerable selves right after an orgasm. An aphrodisiac can serve as something like a truth serum if used correctly.”

“Oh. So you’re going to fuck me and then get all psychological on me? I’m fairly certain you didn’t need to drug me for that...”

Wilford felt his grip on reality slipping just a tad. For an anti-psychotic this sure made him woozy.

“Safety precaution. Wouldn’t want you getting bored of me, and I do have a lot of samples to collect.”

That was about the last thing Wilford heard that was stable, that made sense in his mind.

-

The way that Dr Schneeplestein fucked was clinical. He used a condom and gloves, missionary, and the entire time Wilford had felt like he was being interrogated. There had been a point in time where the good, no, the great doctor, had listed certain scenarios and gauged for Wilfords reaction. If he got softer or harder, his pupils, how hard he begged to be touched again.

Wilford had a food fetish, apparently. But not just any food fetish, a candy fetish. He had described, at length, in the best way he could without drooling too much, with his brain scattered to the winds, about wanting to be fucked open with one of those comically large swirl pops. He described textures and tastes and that he’d more than happily do it to someone else to taste the sugar on them but he simply hadn’t quite gotten around to it yet. 

Schneeplestein sipped at his own bitter coffee and took notes while Wilford struggled against his restraints, occasionally rewarding Wilford with a few hand strokes. At one point Schneep had taken off the condom he’d slipped onto Wilford to take pre-cum samples, then slipped a new one on again.

Wilford was a natural born switch and a voyeur, which wasn’t surprising. Wilford described the thrill of trying to get the upper hand with Dark, seeing who would cave first, who would submit first. He described having enjoyed in the days of his television show, fucking his guests just before curtain call, just before they were due on stage, and of course Wilford put on a great poker face every time. It made him look fantastic while the other crumbled and shifted in their seat, on edge still. And it didn’t matter whether or not they wanted to dominate or submit, Wilford could play either role just fine. Either way, he was in control. And now that he had Dark and Anti, he could give some of that control away and it was new and exciting and fantastic.

Hearing Wilford describe it all in such great detail got Schneep himself a little worked up, and he used and abused Wilfords hole like a fuck toy until he was, himself, satisfied and clear headed. Poor Wilford though, poor Wilford would not be satisfied or clear headed for quite some time.

“You’ve got quite the psyche, Wilford. I wonder how exactly it got to be this way, hmm? There must be something, some deep dark secret you’re hiding away in there...”

Schneep ran his fingers gently up the length of Wilfords cock and Wilford groaned, attempting to buck up with very little success. He felt like there was huge weight on his chest and he couldn’t quite place it. But then again, his body was giving him all kinds of mixed signals so it wasn’t all that surprising.

Schneeplestein was persistent, because of course he was. He gave Wilfords cock a firm stroke and pulled away almost immediately. Wilford cried out like he was in pain, because this felt like torture. This felt like an interrogation for information he didn’t have - or didn’t have access to. It was too far in the back of his mind, locked away, repressed.

Schneep walked over to his desk, where he had apparently set up a tray of tools at some point.  
Wilford could barely lift his head to see, but he vaguely heard the sound of metal clanking. He would have panicked if he wasn’t so goddamn turned on and it was difficult to care about anything except for having an orgasm at this point.

Schneep walked back to the bed, of one could even call it that, and in the back of Wilford head he knew Schneep wouldn’t do anything too stupid. Everyone was afraid of Dark. Wilford didn’t typically feel like he needed to be protected or anything, if anything, this was exciting in some morbid, animalistic way. It was fresh and yet he felt like he was suffocating in it all. It was... so much. It was just so much that it had Wilford in tears before the good doctor even cut into him with a scalpel.

Wilford felt the cold before he felt the pain at his arm and he tensed. To be fair, Schneeplestein had at least done him the favour of gripping the base of Wilfords cock. Wilford found himself shaking, crying more, and it was really just a nick in the grand scheme of things. But his brain couldn’t pull apart the feelings of pain and pleasure. Things were getting mixed in translation and Wilford was thrusting, humping shallowly into Schneeps fist.

Schneep put down the scalpel momentarily to pick up a container of some sort - Wilford didn’t care, but Schneep was mummering to himself absent-mindedly.

“One can never have too many samples... You seem to take some pleasure from that, Wilford.”

Schneeplestein had a terrible look on his face, something hungry and predatory as he lifted Wilfords gown and grabbed the scalpel in his right hand and quickly slipped two finders into Wilford. Not that he needed more lube, with the way the doctor used him earlier, he was plenty prepared for a good fingering. 

Wilford ground down and squeezed around the fingers as they hit his prostate with practiced, clinical precision. And then he felt another deep, stinging pain at his stomach. The doctor was making light cuts into him and Wilford couldn’t even try to say that that was maybe a bad idea.

“You must be still, Wilford. I wouldn’t want my hand to slip, now, would I? Or would you like to talk about that oh-so-secret past of yours that Dark keeps so close to his chest, hmm?”

Wilford shook his head, although he didn’t know what at specifically and then he was just shouting as Schneep thrust into him, rough and perfect and everything hurt but he was so fucking close, and then he felt that crushing sensation release as he came, dry, and for a moment he couldn’t even see. Everything was white and red but Schneep didn’t stop.

Instead, after a few extra slices for good measure, he dumped the scalpel in some container and used that hand to dab at the blood, then coating Wilfords dick with it. Well, not really, since Wilford was wearing a condom, but the general implication of jerking Wilford off with his own blood was ridiculously hot and if he hadn’t unloaded into Wilford earlier he might have gone for a second round, pounding into Wilford for his own pleasure.

Wilford was over sensitive and he was basically being milked for a ‘sample’ of his cum and he was squirming and still squeezing around the fingers inside him, pushing against him and his second orgasm hit him like a whip. It was so unexpected and he was shaking and crying and screaming and begging and hurting everywhere. It was too much and he winced away, almost trying to get away from the doctors relentless hands. As he finally came down a little from his climax, the doctor released him.

He somehow started becoming more aware of his surroundings, like he’d been wearing blurry glasses or something. He attempted to curl up when Schneep carefully took off Wilfords condom and tied it, putting it with the other bodily samples.

Wilford shuddered, and sobbed still, as Schneeplestein took off his gloves and placed them with the specimens just in case. He walked over and undid Wilfords restraints, assessing the damaging to his wrists.

“My apologies about the bruises. I’ll clean your cuts and dress them and... I think you need some water and a sandwich.”

Wilford had... a lot of mixed feelings. Had Dark given the okay on this? Were they going to be in trouble?

Wilford looked down at the clean cuts and the smeared blood on his skin and his worn down made a valiant attempt at twitching.

He supposed he just had to find out about this particular kink the hard way.

He was silent as the doctor rushed about, getting him a glass of water, cleaning and dressing his wounds, and at the end of it he felt like jelly, but not totally in a bad way. It was... weird.

His legs were dangling off of the bed and he stared into his glass.

Schneeplestein came over and put a hand on his knee.

“I suppose there were some psychological factors I didn’t totally consider. But you did very well today. I must thank you for your participation. And if at any point in time you’d like to explore your knife play kink in a safe and sanitary way, as opposed to -“

The doctor shuddered.

“- using Antis knife... you’re more than welcome to come to me.”

Wilford nodded, taking note of how he felt about himself. How he felt in his clothing, in this room, how he felt about the doctors - Henriks - hand against his knee. After some analysis, he decided he was okay. Just. Sometimes, uncertainty lead to curiosity and curiosity could lead to some great fun.

“So, then. Since you were such a good patient today, would you like a lollipop?”

Henrik pulled a stereotypical dollar store sucker from his pocket.

Wilford smiled, weakly.

**Author's Note:**

> Have you got an idea or a request for a fic? Come shoot me a message at markipwiwer.tumblr.com!
> 
> If you like what I do, please consider supporting me at www.ko-fi.com/markipwiwer!


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